


Nothing Else Matters

by blustersquall



Series: Cullen Rutherford x Nevena Trevelyan [15]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Trespasser
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content, POV Second Person, Trespasser DLC, Trespasser Spoilers, Wedding Night, shameless fluff, short and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blustersquall/pseuds/blustersquall
Summary: The morning after their wedding, Cullen and the Inquisitor both marvel at finally being married.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old piece I always meant to upload here but never did. I wrote it mostly on my phone at about six in the morning when I couldn't sleep. I don't normally write in 2nd person, so this is a rarity for me. I had just finished the Trespasser DLC when I wrote this. It's utterly indulgent, but I still quite like it, even after a year or more. : )
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

When Nevena wakes in the morning it is slowly and naturally. For the first time in a long time her body and mind allow her to wake in her own time, to the sounds of the Winter Palace, and to those of her bed fellow. The morning is bright, sunlight piercing through gaps in the drapes illuminating dust motes and creating sharp daggers of light on the opposing wall.

The weight of Cullen’s arm resting over her hip is familiar and a comfort. The weight of the gold band around the fourth finger on her left hand is not. She peers at it as she awakens, turning it around several times. Such a simple trinket, but it means more than she can express. It is a plain band, to the point - much like he is. No gaudy decor or pomp. It is a little thinner than the band he had fashioned for himself.

He surprised her with the proposal and surprised her with having rings ready too. _‘On the off chance’_ he had told her when he retrieved them from the breast pocket of his smart tunic.

As she examines the piece of jewellery, which she knows will never leave her hand, she feels him move in bed beside her. He is a light sleeper, something she has grown accustomed to. When his hand reaches for hers and his fingers lace between her own, she smiles, squeezes and turns her head to see him awake and drowsy. He is watching her, the wild curls of his hair flopping roguishly across his brow.

“Good morning.” He mumbles, smiling. His thumb brushes the ring around her finger and he glances at it. “Wife.”

Wife.

That’s right. She is his _wife_.

She loves the way he says it. His voice lowers to a husky timbre which makes her skin tingle, and he says it intimately, as though he cannot believe it either.

She is still reeling. She has held the title of prisoner, of Herald, of Inquisitor - but none have sounded so good to her ears as wife.  It is a title she never expected to hold. Not in her most wild and fanciful imaginings. But it is hers now. Mother Giselle had married them, witnessed their vows in a brief, private ceremony which was perfect in every way. Even if the dog was a surprise.

“Good morning, husband.” Nevena beams and shuffles over the sheets towards him.

The word rolls off her tongue so easily it is as if she has said it a thousand times. She feels the distinct flutter of butterflies in her chest when she says it. It feels so comfortable to say. So natural. Cullen is her husband. She is his wife. It is perfect.

Cullen’s lips draws into a lazily beautiful smile and he inches towards her, mouth pressing to her forehead before he places a kiss upon her lips.

“I like hearing you say that.” He tells her. His hand strokes across her torso, fingers soft on her skin. She has felt his touch most nights for the last two years. There is always a thrill, but now there is something more there. Somehow it feels different, and yet the same.

“I like saying it.” She replies, unable to stop her smile. She has been unable stop smiling since yesterday afternoon. Nevena's cheeks ache with her joy, yet she cannot prevent her grin no matter how it hurts. “Still feels surreal.” She admits, stroking her fingers across his cheek. “We’re married.”

“We are.” Cullen takes her left hand where the anchor is mercifully quiet for once. He kisses the ring around her finger before leaning closer and enveloping her within his embrace. His smell is familiar, it is home, and it surrounds her completely. “You married me.” His voice is hoarse, his emotion making it hard for him to speak. He nuzzles her forehead with his eyes closed, a gesture of closeness they both relish. “You’re my wife… I still can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I.” Grinning she kisses him, searing, long, arms winding up around his neck. Cullen chuckles, no more words needing to be said. Between kisses which switch between ardent and deep, to hot and fast, affectionate and loving words peppered between them, he eases inside her. He holds her to him, eyes on her face watching every change in her expression.

His body and the way he feels is known to Nevena as closely as her own heartbeat. She is safe with him. Safe, secure, and loved and it has never been more apparent to her than now. There is a sense of newness too, of union and completion which makes her want to weep with how crushing it is. It is so strange how the exchanging of vows and rings can make things feel so different. She has been with him more times than she can count, but there is something about _now_ that she has never felt before. It is a sensation which she cannot articulate, only she knows it is wonderful - that she will remember it and this morning until her last day.

He brings her to bliss and follows shortly after, moaning her name into her mouth and against her lips over and over. Like rain drops on flower petals, a mantra, and a prayer. Cullen’s hair sticks to his forehead with his sweat. Nevena pushes the unkempt curls back, pressing delicate, loving kisses to her husband’s quaking lips as he chases his breath.

Cullen’s smile is crooked when he looks at her, eyes warm and swimming with affection. She loves it. She loves him more than she thought possible and without words needing to be spoken, she knows he feels the same way.

The Exalted Council taking place in the afternoon will change many things. It may even force the Inquisition is disband and dissolve. But there is one thing she is certain of, that no power, great or small, could sunder the bond between them.

He is her husband, she is his wife. If they are together then nothing else matters.

**Author's Note:**

> I know some people choose not to marry him, and that’s fine. It is not my intention to crap on your choice. Please don’t assume as such.  
> Comments gratefully appreciated and encouraged. <3


End file.
